Dependent
by Sandpiper01
Summary: After the Chitauri attack, we know that Thor and Loki returned to Asgard, and the rest of the Avengers were left to deal with their wounded planet as well as scars of their own. What they don't know is that another threat is brewing, but can they heal from the latest attack in time to fight for Earth again? Avengers sequel!
1. Recuperate

Thor and Loki stumbled a bit from their rough landing back in Asgard; the tesseract had given them a rough ride that could not even be compared to the quick, smooth travel of the Bifrost. Thor glanced to his muzzled brother, am empathetic look knitting his eyebrows together. Loki's gaze stayed glued to his hand, which rested on the handle of the tesseract's casing.

How had he gotten here? Everything had come full circle. Not too long ago, he was dangling from the edge of this shattered bridge, feeling shameful then, too.

Thor kept a firm grasp on his brother's arm as they walked through the magnificent gates leading into Asgard. They continue walking, the only sounds coming from the water below, their footsteps, and the quiet c_link_ from Loki's wrist restraints.

Loki's heart beats heavily in his chest, but not quickly. Each beat is felt in his neck and stomach. Each breath he takes rattles with anticipation. Each step isn't quite as firm as it should be. When he finally looks up from his feet to the great palace in front of him, he nearly stops in his place. A deep apprehension sets in him as he realizes what is soon to come.

* * *

Natasha's hand presses flat against the cold glass of the gym door as she walks through. Sh's absorbed in her MP3 player, preparing for a run on SHIELD's indoor track when the sound of quick footsteps sends her attention elsewhere.

Her heart leaps into a faster pace, but begins to slow when she remembers she's still at SHIELD. No reason to be alarmed. The steady pace of Clint's footsteps are soft as he runs along the other side of the gym, but she's suddenly angry.

"I thought they told you to take it easy," she raises her voice so he can hear her.

"Got restless," he replies, not even glancing at her.

"'Taking it easy' doesn't include running."

"I'm jogging."

With an exasperated sigh, she sets down her duffle bag and crosses her arms across her chest.

"And why are you here? I'm sure you've been told to _take it easy_ too," Clint huffs, his tone heavy.

"I didn't have my mind controlled for two days," she retorts.

"I'm fine." His steps grow heavier, faster.

"How many laps have you done, anyways?" Natasha asks, keeping up the frustrated tones they volley with each reply.

"Eighteen," Clint replies.

"Eighteen," she repeats in a caustic tone. "_That's_ your idea of taking it easy?"

"It's not a quarter-mile track; each lap is only an eighth. I've done just over two miles."

Natasha takes a step forward, blocking the narrow, two-lane track. She finally gets a better look at him. Red-faced, sweat covering his forehead and the base of his neck. A line formed between his eyebrows.

"You need to take a break," she says in a calmer, more friendly tone than before.

"I'm fine," repeats Clint.

He doesn't make eye contact as he quietly goes around Natasha's small frame, the only sound he makes is each time he exhales.

Natasha turns, her arms still folded in front of her, to follow Clint. She's about to respond to his latest remark when she notices a small blood stain on the top left of his grey t-shirt.

"Clint, you're not fine," she says.

"Yes-"

"Left shoulder," she interrupts before he can retaliate.

He takes a few more steps before coming to a stop, and then faces her with a confused expression twisting his features. He reaches a hand around to his shoulder, and he immediately rolls his eyes.

"Those damn stitches…" he mutters as he begins making his way back towards Natasha.

She begins collecting her bag and MP3 player, as well as a few of Clint's things that have been scattered over the gym bench.

"I can get those," Clint breathes.

"You'll just hurt your shoulder more," Natasha says without making eye contact, continuing to put the last of his belongings into his bag.

She hauls both bags over her shoulder, and proceeds to walk towards the medical wing, Clint in tow.

* * *

"It's great, isn't it?" Tony asks Bruce, who is staring at the huge arc reactor in awe.

"It's amazing," he replies, leaning his forearms along the metal bar that runs a few feet away from the reactor. "So this one doesn't run on palladium?"

"Nope. Runs on the same stuff that's in here." Tony taps his chest, then rests his forearms along the railing. "It's almost four times as efficient, too."

"Any negatives to it?"

"Not yet. It's just time consuming and expensive to recreate the element," Tony says. "Hey, if you ever want to come down here, there's a coffee machine and a fridge filled with energy drinks and deli meat. You'll never have to leave."

Bruce looks to the small living area on the other side of a glass wall. In the same room as the living area is an extensive lab, pristine and white and chrome.

"Yeah, I think I'm more of a 'take a bunch of little breaks' kind of guy than work straight through something," Bruce confesses.

Tony shrugs. "Suit yourself," he says as he makes his way back to the elevator. The soothing hum of the arc reactor fills the room as Bruce continues to look around the lab. When the doors to the elevator finally open, the two men stay where they are.

"Did you have someone take my bag upstairs?" Bruce asks; earlier, he left his bags in the elevator so he wouldn't be hauling them around Tony's lab.

"No, I left them in the elevator. Jarvis?" Tony asks his AI.

"Miss Potts removed them from the elevator."

"Pepper's back?" Tony asks.

"Yes, she removed the b-"

"Yeah, yeah, that was a rhetorical question. Where is she?"

"In the penthouse, sir."

"She's not going to be happy when she sees that," Tony sighs as he and Bruce step into the elevator.

Tony presses his thumb to a scanner, which makes a hologram with extra floors pop up. He presses the number 106, and the elevator shoots up so quickly that their ears pop on the way up.

Tony takes a deep breath at floor 105, and before the doors open, he attempts to prepare himself for Pepper. When they finally do, Tony suddenly becomes aware of every inch of his body.

Pepper, sporting a messy ponytail and a wrinkled button down shirt and jeans, turns on her heels to face the elevator. She lacks her usual high heels, so when she stomps over to Tony, it is a bit less frightening. A bit.

"What were you thinking?" she shouts at him, shoving his shoulders for good measure.

Tony finally gets a better look at her features. No lipstick, hardly any makeup at all. In fact, he can just barely make out the bit of grey shadowing under her eyes, indicating that she had either just cried or she had carelessly wiped off her eye makeup.

"I was-"

"Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you fly into a _portal_ with a _nuke?_" she screeches, her voice cracking at the end.

"Pep - "

"I thought you were dead! I didn't even know that you were alive until the news confirmed it hours later!"

"I-"

"Those hours were _hell_, Tony!"

"Can I please explain, Pepper!" Tony shouts.

Pepper sniffles, wipes away a tear that had fallen. It kills Tony to see her like this, and the best he can think to do is wrap his arms around her. She keeps her arms folded between her and his chest, refusing to let him win this easily.

"It was either that or all of Manhattan would have been leveled," he says in a low voice, just barely enough for her to hear.

"But, I already got the details from JARVIS, you _knew_ that you barely had enough power," she argues. "The news said you ran out."

"Yeah, I did," Tony sighs.

"But how did you get back?" Pepper asks. She lifts her head away from Tony's shoulder to look to him.

"The, uh – Bruce caught me," Tony cringes, fearing what is to follow.

"Bruce?" Pepper asks, wiping away another tear. Her calm tone surprises Tony and leaves him relieved.

Tony looks over his shoulder to Bruce, who is standing by the elevator with his hands in his back pockets.

"Hi, Miss Potts," he greets with a small smile.

"Hi Bruce," she says with a small chuckle. "So that was your bag in the elevator?"

"Yes, we were wondering what happened to it," he answers.

"Well, it's right here," Pepper says as she removes herself from Tony's grip and heads towards the bar. "And, Tony?" She picks up the bag and looks to Tony, who lifts his eyebrows. "What happened in here?"

The three of them look toward the windows, where the setting sun streams through the shattered windows. Tony takes a deep breath as he focuses on the tiny rainbows cast on each shard of glass, trying to put this the best way possible.

"The – ah, the Hulk was a little angry with Loki," Tony says.

Bruce removes his hands from his pockets, holds them out in front of him to begin making an apology, but is stopped when Pepper holds a hand out.

"Don't even begin to apologize, I understand," she says.

"At least let me take that for you," Bruce attempts.

Pepper smiles and lets him take his bag from her, then looks to Tony. "Such a gentleman."

"You know I have my moments," he objects.

"Of course I do," she says before kissing him on the cheek.

She led the two men to the elevator, an unfamiliar wind blowing gently through the disheveled room.

* * *

Reviews are very much appreciated! They're a motivation for writers to write faster and more.

Steve will be in the next chapter, and things should pick up from there. I felt this one was just getting a bit too long.

Thanks for reading so far, I hope this satisfied some Avengers feels (:


	2. Anticipate

407.

408.

409.

It takes Steve 409 steps for Steve to reach the edge of the Hudson River from his destroyed, SHIELD-issued apartment. Of course, it took some extra steps than usual to make it over and around the wreckage of the past day's extraterrestrial attack.

Just when he thought the 21st century couldn't surprise him anymore.

Aliens, flying aircraft carriers – just where had he been dropped? These kinds of things couldn't even be imagined in the forties.

He takes a deep breath and looks to the one thing that still remains: the Statue of Liberty. He leans his forearms on the concrete barrier between him and the water below, taking in the scenery. Given the destructed city behind him, the sun's sparkling reflection against the water seems ironic.

A hint of a smile crosses his face as he reaches into his small, leather backpack to retrieve his sketchbook. He begins to capture everything in his illustration: every detail of the horizon, the little sparkles on the water, the shadows on Lady Liberty. His hand takes over, and soon he is barely even thinking. He's completely absorbed in his senses.

It's his personal escape from insanity.

* * *

Natasha's gaze switches from Clint's face to the doctor's steady, precise hands repairing Clint's shoulder. She finds it hard to tell if Clint is in any pain – everything he feels is always hidden so well. Of course, she knows the medic applied an anesthetic to the area a few minutes earlier. But that's just her problem: what if it hasn't had time to start taking effect?

_He knows what he's doing,_ Natasha reassures herself.

Natasha takes a deep breath, keeping it as quiet as possible. No need to cause others to speculate.

Clint looks up from his hands at the sound of her deep breath – apparently it wasn't as quiet as she thought. They make eye contact, and the side of Natasha's mouth instinctively pulls up. Just a friendly form of communication they offer when no words are needed.

Clint responds by looking back to his hands folded in his lap.

Natasha makes a face – perfectly aware of the fact – and opens her mouth to chastise him. She's stopped before she can begin.

"That's it," the medic declares as he begins to run a wet towel over the fresh stitches. "And this time, really do take it easy. No gym." He stops to take off his gloves. "And I'm sure agent Romanov can enforce that."

She shoves aside her earlier disapproval of Clint's detached behavior. Instead, she smiles and looks back to Clint. "He knows it."

"Except enforcing it would lead to sparring, which would only end up with these stitches coming undone again," Clint replies.

Finally! Her old Hawkeye is back. Her smile forms into a true one as she picks up Clint's fresh shirt and tosses it to his right side. "Come on. I'm sure we could find a book for you to read."

"Sounds great," he says, the sarcasm dripping from each word.

Natasha rolls her eyes in a playful matter and watches Clint as he hops down from the hospital bed. A little alarm of worry goes off in her head when she sees the still fresh wounds on his arms, but something clicks when her gaze involuntarily moves to his muscular torso, his sculpted shoulders…

She stops herself there. She's seen Clint shirtless many times before: when they spar in the summer, certain missions. So what was that little "click" in her mind?

_It's the way any woman would react_, she reassures herself, but that doesn't help. She can't let herself succumb to average female feelings – it could lead to her death.

She decides that she simply respects Clint for working so hard to be this fit.

* * *

Thor lifts Mjolnir above his head, summoning lighting which crackles and dances into the sky – the sign that he has returned home. He and Loki continue to make their way towards the golden palace, the exhaustion from the battle on Midgard affecting their speed.

Suddenly, from the beginning of the rainbow bridge, come several horses carrying guards on their backs. The cumulative noise of the horses' hooves add up to a roar, and Thor can feel Loki tense under his grip on his shoulder. What will they do to his little brother? Kill him here? Just how unforgivable were his actions?

Thor releases Loki, signaling a minimal amount of trust for the trickster, and steps in front of him. The thirty or so horsemen come to a halt just a few feet in front of the brothers.

Most of them are shocked.

"Prince Loki?" Danorum, one of the highest ranking guards, questions.

"We've come to see the Allfather," Thor announces, ignoring Danorum's speculation.

"Of course, Prince Thor," he says, tilting his head down in respect. "Shall we accompany you to the palace?"

"We will be fine on our own," Thor tells him.

Thor's response masks the real one of "I can handle Loki from here."

Danorum understands, but so does Loki, who inwardly rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Danorum nods once, turns his horse around in one swift movement, and leads the guards back towards the palace.

Thor turns to face Loki, who is succeeding in hiding nearly all his emotions. With a sigh, Thor reaches around Loki's head and unhooks the muzzle. It falls to the bridge with a nonchalant _clunk_.

Thor replaces his hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki twitches, shrugging off his adopted brother's touch. Without looking to his brother, Thor takes a more firm grasp of Loki's upper arm. Loki inhales in anger, but doesn't bother with Thor's restricting hold when they begin walking again.

Thor knows his brother is on edge. He knows Loki's actions just might be unforgivable. He knows Loki will be punished for all the lives he's ended. He doesn't know how forgiving Odin will be, or the rest of Asgard.

Next to him, Loki moves his jaw side to side, wincing at the small cracks his joints make. That filthy muzzle had been on him for nearly an entire Midgardian day. He looks to Thor out of the corner of his eyes. His body language tells Loki he is confident. Long stride. Shoulders back. Chin up. But, something is off.

There is a small limp when he puts weight on his left side. His eyebrows are slightly drawn together, and his mouth forms a hard line.

Why should he be so gloomy? Here he is, walking Loki back to Asgard. Proof that he, once again, has stopped Loki. People will disregard Loki while they look up to him, Loki knows this for a fact.

Loki feels disgusted with Thor. Disgusted with Asgard. Disgusted with himself.

They finally reach the entrance to the palace. Lining the sides of the massive hallway is the group of guards that greeted the brothers earlier. They've been trained to keep straight faces, showing no emotion, but their shock (and fear?) are slipping through their thick facades.

Thor and Loki have just made it inside the doors when they her footsteps. Without any notice, the doors to the throne room fly open, revealing a frantic Frigga running towards her sons.

Thor offers a sad smile, happy that he's home, but unhappy with having his brother in chains.

Frigga immediately wraps her arms around both of their shoulders, having to stand on her tiptoes. She stands back and sniffles once, her gaze shifting from Thor to Loki.

Loki can't meet his mother's eyes. He's failed. Again. All he wanted to do was make them proud. He could have ruled Earth, and under his reign he could calm the mortals and their fighting could eventually cease.

Frigga wipes a gentle hand over the wound on Loki's forehead, and her features twist.

"We thought you had died," she says quietly, a tear glistening off her cheak.

Loki keeps his gaze to the tiles under his left foot.

"I'm fine, mother," Loki speaks for the first time since arriving in Asgard, and the lie is one of his biggest.

"Neither of you are fine," she scolds, also taking in Thor's injuries. She looks back to Loki, his changed armor, the scratches in it. The chains around his wrists. Her eyebrows furrow and she looks up to Thor for an answer.

"We will tell you and father the story," Thor answers.

She gains control of the tears threatening to flow, and turns to walk to the throne room, her sons in her wake.

* * *

"Is this debriefing really necessary?" Tony asks Bruce.

"Earth has just been attacked by an extraterrestrial army. If you don't go to any debriefings in the future, at least go to this one," Bruce says.

The two come to two doors and they open automatically, revealing your average SHIELD meeting room. Grey, metallic, and cold. Natasha and Clint sit opposite each other at the triangular table, Fury sitting at the point.

"Look who's on time," Natasha smirks.

"I happen to be on time fairly often," Tony responds.

Natasha rolls her eyes and ignores his arrogance. "Cap isn't with you?"

"No," Bruce answers as the two men take their seats. "He hasn't called?"

"I'm sure he would if he knew how to use a phone," Tony jokes.

Halfway through his comment, the doors slide open, revealing Steve.

"I know how to use a phone just fine," Steve says, crossing his arms across his chest.

How arrogant can this man be? It infuriates him that Tony can get such pleasure out of putting others down.

Steve sighs as he takes a seat across from Bruce, next to Natasha. He was hoping that the Chitauri attack would calm the man's ego, but it seems to have done the opposite.

"But a phone is just one of the basics of the 21st century. You still-" Tony starts.

"We're here to try to make sense yesterday's attacks, not to joke around," Fury interrupts him.

For once, Tony stays in his place and keeps quiet. Silence fills the room, everyone waiting for Tony to respond.

"Well, for starters," Clint begins. "Have we heard anything from Thor?"

"We don't have anything yet. We'll have to wait for him to return to Earth," Fury answers.

"I wonder what they'll do to him," Steve muses.

"To who?" Natasha asks.

"Loki," Steve answers.

"Whatever he deserves," Clint mumbles.

"You don't think they'll be too harsh on him, do you?" Steve asks, somewhat ignoring Clint's addition.

"They're Asgardians – their punishments are probably worse than ours," Natasha adds. "We still believe in rights."

"How can we know if they believe in rights also?" Bruce asks.

"How can we know if they don't?" Natasha counters.

"We still don't know the final death toll, except that it's high. They should be harsh on him," Tony argues.

"We've had worse on our own planet," Steves argues back.

"That doesn't justify his actions," Tony retorts.

"And it also doesn't mean that he should be…" Steve hesitates for a moment as he racks his brain for an answer, "tortured?"

"The guy's crazy. What are they supposed to do if they can't change him?" Clint asks.

"No one deserves to be tortured," Bruce adds.

"Locking him in a cell sure as hell won't change him," Tony says.

"And torturing him will?" Steve asks.

"I'm not saying _torturing_, I'm just saying that someone that crazy won't sober up after being locked in a cave for a while," Tony says.

"Obviously not," Steve points out.

The room silences.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tony lashes out, knowing exactly what the Captain is referring to.

The entire room is silent except for Tony's heavy breathing. Steve and Tony lock eye contact, two lions at their breaking point, ready to fight.

"That's enough, you two," Fury finally breaks the silence. He knows how detrimental a fight between two superheroes could be.

"No. I want to know just what _Capsicle_ was referring to," Tony snaps.

"Just let it go," Bruce says quietly. "It's nothing to get heated over."

"You're giving me anger management tips?" Tony laughs.

Bruce relaxes into his seat, and incredulous look on his face.

"That was low, Tony," Steve says as he shakes his head.

"You're one to talk," Clint says at the same time Natasha speaks.

"Did you not hear yourself thirty seconds ago?" she asks.

"_That's enough!_" Fury reapeats, bringing his palm down on the glass table. "Loki nearly succeeded in taking New York city, hell, _Earth, _and I can't let him succeed in splitting apart this team!"

The five Avengers quiet, tensions still high in the room.

"Obviously you all need a break. I thought that twenty four hours would have been enough for you to act civilized around each other, but apparently I was wrong."

The broken team stares at their hands, refusing to look to each other or Fury. The scene is similar to a group of kids who have just been scolded by their teacher, threatening to send notes to their parents.

Fury sighs as he sits back down in his seat. "So, the Chitauri attack…"

* * *

_AAAH! so much angst! I've started the next chapter already, and I'll just say I have plenty of Loki feels while writing it. But I'm fairly busy during the week, and I try to update as quickly as possible. And I think you'll be VERY happy with a few surprises I've come up with._

_If you're leaving a review, could you do me a huge favor? I was just wondering if you think the story is paced okay – too fast, too slow, just right? And again, thanks for reading and adding this to your favorites/following!_


	3. Judge

_Just a quick something before you read: You have probably noticed my lack of cover art. If someone would like to make one for me, I'd be so incredibly thankful! I'd give you credit, of course, so just PM me if you're interested. _

* * *

"And you are not leaving anything out?" An Asgardian council member asks.

Thor and Loki stand in the center of the circular, golden throne room. A council of ten elders sits to the right and left of Odin, giving the scene an ominous feel.

Thor, who stands on the right side of Loki, shifts his weight from one side to the other, nervous in his response. Did he leave anything out? Did he add anything that seemed biased?

"Yes," he answers simply, his voice strong despite his hesitation.

"Then we are left to make a decision," the same council member asks.

Thor looks to his younger brother, who has yet to say a word. Loki's eyes grow wide at the council's latest statement, and he opens his mouth to begin speaking.

"But Thor has-"

"_Silence!"_ Odin shouts, crashing Gungnir to the ground.

Loki moves his gaze back to the ground, wincing away from Odin's harsh voice.

Thor is curious as to what Loki has to say. Was he going to blame him? Justify his own actions?

"What is it, Loki?" Thor whispers as he looks to Loki.

Loki looks to Thor and his worried eyes, his mouth open slightly as he anticipates a response. Loki breathes in to begin telling Thor the truth. But, the look Thor is giving him makes him feel like a child again…

_Loki ran through the palace, bursting through the doors of his room. Finally, he had found the spell! He just needed a place to practice it. _

_He stood in the hallway outside his room, contemplating where to go. He racks his brain for available spots, images quickly running past his vision._

That's it!_ he thinks as he turns on his heels, running towards a courtyard not too far away. He slows his pace, making his footsteps quiet. Slowly and carefully he opens the doors leading outside, and the light wind blows the hair away from his face._

_Then, he sees it. A statue, perhaps a bit taller than his father, stands on the other side of the doorway, opposite its twin. He runs his hand over it, taps it with his knuckles once. Yes, this is the right kind of stone._

_He steps back a few paces, lifts his hand up to shoulder height, and points to the statue's nose. He closes his eyes and finds that spot inside him to begin harnessing his magic. Although it isn't quite a concrete feeling – it's somewhat similar to nostalgia – it makes him feel energized. He smiles when he hears a crack in the stone, knowing the spell is working. _

_Another crack occurs, only louder. He opens his eyes in shock because he knows that wasn't supposed to happen._

"_Loki!"_

_Loki turns at the sound of his name to see Thor running towards him. "Look out!" he shouts._

_Loki looks back to the statue, which has a giant crack running around its neck. The crack seems to be spreading quickly, and before he can comprehend it, the head begins falling towards him. _

_Loki moves as fast as his feet will take him, involuntarily running backwards. He dives to his right, nearly landing on Thor._

_The head of the statue finally crashes to the ground, crumbling as it does. Thor crouches next to Loki, a worried look twisting his features and glistening in his eyes._

"_Loki! Thor!" the sound of their father's voice rings out above them._

_Their heads spin up to a balcony, revealing to them both parents leaning over the rail to get a better view of their sons._

_The two boys turn back to each other, worrisome looks gracing both their faces._

A shortened version of the memory plays out in Loki's mind in only a second. He sees the same young brother before him, worried for his safety and the punishment he could endure. Right now he feels the same way.

But is Thor that same person he was when they were children? Is Loki? Somewhere, Loki hopes that the two of them can be brothers again, but then he remembers all those negative feelings towards Thor.

He turns his gaze to his right, but catches something on the way. A blood stain on Thor's right side. A wound that _he_ caused. More memories flash through his mind: Thor fighting beside him, the two working together to protect each other; Thor's shout as he falls from the broken rainbow bridge; Thor removing his muzzle when he knows it wasn't necessary.

He remembers everything since his fall from the bridge, but he also remembers feeling so a_ngry. _Angry at everyone, and his irrational responses. Before his fall to Midgard, the only time he had killed was when he was in battle, fighting for Asgard. So why had he been able to do so on Midgard? He knows he should feel that blood-boiling anger towards Thor right now, but he doesn't.

He's completely confused as to what he should feel, what he wants to feel, and what he actually feels.

He looks back to his feet and whispers to Thor, hoping that no one would notice his lips moving minutely. "There are still parts you left out."

Thor keeps his gaze focused on Loki.

Surely Thor didn't forget part of his time on Midgard. And how much could Loki have endured before they met again on Midgard?

Thor is suddenly curious, but debates with himself whether or not he should tell the council and Odin.

"Father," Thor says in his usual booming voice. The Council ceases from their hushed debating and turn their attention to the two in the center of the room. "Loki has his side of the story to tell."

The Council members look to each other, a few of them nodding, and then they look to Odin.

Odin looks to Thor, then flicks his gaze to his right. A silent signal telling him to stand next to his mother on the edges of the room.

Thor gives Loki one last look before following his father's order, then makes his way to Frigga's side.

"Very well," he says. "Tell your account, Loki."

Loki instinctively looks to his mother for support. Just a quick glance, but it's enough. She's always been there for him, and he used to believe he took after her while Thor took more after Odin. Seems like it was just a coincidence.

"When I fell from the bridge," Loki begins in a somewhat quiet voice, "I did not fall straight to Midgard."

The Council begins whispering to each other, but Odin taps the end of Gungnir to the ground, effectively hushing them.

"I landed on a Chitauri ship," Loki continues in a louder voice. They either believe his story or not, but he will not be seen as a coward. "They… persuaded me to work alongside them. They are far from the most moral beings in the Nine Realms.

"They placed a scepter in my hand and gave me command of their army-"

"So you confess to leading the army against Midgard?" a councilwoman interrupts Loki.

"Well, yes. But I belie-"

"You deliberately defied one of the Thirteen Ancient Laws," a councilman states. "The punishment for such an action is severe, despite whatever the reasoning behind it."

"Let Loki finish speaking before you make a decision," Odin tells the Council.

Loki takes a deep breath, tries to stop his shaking hands.

"He threatened me," Loki started. "And as I said before, they are not the most moral creatures. They are violent, malicious beings who lack empathy. I knew that if I did not listen, the consequences would be severe. They gave me no choice.

"And by ruling the mortals, I would have done them good! I would have saved them from themselves – all they do is battle each other with mechanical weapons, resulting in pointless deaths."

The small crowd in the room is left to soak in Loki's words. He is the god of lies, after all. Could they trust him?

Thor looks down to his mother when he hears her sniffle. She brings her hand up to wipe them away, but something catches her eye.

A small splotch of blood on her sleeve.

She quickly makes the connection of where her arm was wrapped around Thor, and she sees the red stain spread across his left side.

"You should go to the healing room," she says, her voice somewhat shaky. Thor knows she's trying to get her mind of the situation at hand.

"It isn't a problem," he replies.

"But how did something penetrate the armor? The only way someone could have found that one weak spot is if they knew about it…"

Thor keeps his eyes locked with Frigga's for a moment longer before looking away. He doesn't want to tell her it was Loki, but he also knows that she is smart enough to figure it out on her own. She looks to Loki with disbelief in her eyes, but he won't look back.

He can't. He heard every word of their short conversation, and he can't meet her eyes. He keeps his gaze fixed on the first stair leading to Odin's throne.

"But he cannot be relieved of his judgment," a Council woman says to Odin. "His crimes are unforgiveable – the deaths of many mortals resulted from his actions – and they should not go unpunished."

"How many mortals?" Odin asks Loki, somewhat ignoring the Council's last statement.

Loki's face contorts in confusion, not quite comprehending what Odin has just asked him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something clicks, but it stays trapped in his subconscious.

"Thor," Odin calls to his son. "Do you have an estimate of the deaths?"

Thor's gaze flicks between Loki and Odin while he rummages through his memories on Midgard. He remembers the report from the glowing picture box, but should he tell them? No, he must. There has always been at least one sorcerer on the Council, and he could use his powers to conclude whether Thor is lying or not.

"Thor," Odin repeats, noticing his hesitation.

Thor takes a deep breath, knowing he can't escape. "A Midgardian report claimed the number to be at about two hundred after the Chitauri attack."

Odin lifts his head a bit at the information as the Council waits for his answer.

Loki stays stiff, his eyes focused on the intricate designs on the floor. His muscles feel like water, his breathing isn't steady. Blood rushes through him – he can feel his heartbeat pound in his head.

"Do you believe your actions were justified?" Odin asks Loki.

At first, Loki hesitates. Was he just given the chance to change his punishment? Or was this some kind of trick? He knows the powerful sorcerer on the Council personally – he was somewhat of a teacher for Loki when he was younger – and he knows he can detect lies. He takes a deep breath in before saying quietly, "Yes."

"And all this destruction was worth your goal of kingship?" Odin asks, a bit more threatening.

"Yes, I could have helped them! I could have ruled Midgard while Thor ruled Asgard – the two of us could have been great!"

"No one is to rule-"

"I could have done it for you! It was not only for my own good!"

"_Enough!"_

Loki's throat closes. He's failed – again. He's embarrassed, he's defensive, he's angry. So angry.

"Loki" – Odin hesitates – "Laufeyson."

His words slice through Loki like an arrow. He can't blink, can't move, can hardly even breathe.

"For an attempt to rule Midgard – breaking one of the Thirteen Ancient Laws – your sorcerer abilities will be seized, and you will be confined until you have truly changed."

"Allfather, I do not believe he deserves to be kept on Asgard," a council man states.

"He cannot be trusted in another realm," Odin responds, then turns to Loki. "He must stay here, where a close eye can be kept on him."

Loki finally escapes from shock – his magic, the one thing that is unique to him, is going to be taken from him? He never imagined such a thing was possible, let alone safe. A tear finally falls from the corner of his eye – the fresh memory of Odin referring to him as "Loki _Laufeyson_" having a harsh impact on him. The memory rubs against him like sandpaper, roughing any smooth surfaces.

When he looks up again, Odin is a mere two feet in front of him, pain twisting his features.

When Odin lifts Gungnir to Loki's chest, Loki shrinks back. Would it hurt? Was he going to faint? He takes a step back involuntarily.

Out of nowhere, two guards place their hands on Loki's shoulders and keep his arms in a strong grip.

Loki swallows hard when Gungnir is once again lifted to his chest, relishing the last few moments he will have his magic. The tip of Gungnir glows blue, but Loki doesn't feel anything.

Nothing.

He watches as the blue glows more intensely, then it slowly spreads towards the small stone at the base of the tip.

As the glow continues to intensify, Loki finds that he's short of breath. Each intake of air isn't quite enough, and his heart beats as if he were in battle. These two reactions strengthen and just when he gets lightheaded from the lack of air, the glow stops.

A slight light resonates from the stone in Gungnir, and Loki feels as if something is missing.

Like that security of a thick blanket at night has suddenly been ripped from its toddler owner.

His breathing begins to go back to normal along with his heart rate. Still in denial, Loki flicks his index finger to create a minuscule spark. Nearly no magic is necessary to conjure to do this – it was one of his earliest tricks and he discovered it by accident.

Nothing happens.

* * *

_Whew! That was a bit of a long chapter._

_I just made a Tumblr! I'm under the same username, sandpiper01. I'll be posting the stories up there as well, and it would be great for some of you to follow me and I can follow you back! _

_And please review, they encourage me to write faster!_


	4. Debate

The five Avengers sit around the triangular table, staring at anything but their teammates. Careless insults had been tossed, silly assumptions had been made, their strings had been strung too tight.

Fury sighs and rested his hands on the glass table, relieved the meeting had finally come to an end. "Cap, Barton, meet me outside."

The two make eye contact from across the table, give a little shrug, and get up from their seats. Why did Fury want to talk to them alone? They follow the director only a few steps behind him, neither of them saying a word. They pass SHIELD agents, janitors, medical staff.

They stop at a window. They glance inside, seeing someone unconscious in a bed, wires springing from his arms, and a nurse with a clipboard standing next to him.

"If this is to make me feel guilty ab-"

"It's not," Fury quickly interrupts Clint. "And we all know that wasn't you; that was Loki. Just look a bit harder."

Clint sighs and looks back into the room.

Nothing stands out to Clint or Steve. What was Fury's point in bringing them here? It's just another SHIELD agent, hurt, like so many others. It's just –

"No," Steve says in disbelief. He gives one huff of a laugh and shakes his head. "This century has finally gotten the best of me. I'm hallucinating."

"I'm with Cap on this one. You must've drugged us," Clint says with sudden clarity.

Beside them, Fury smirks.

"That can't…" Steve starts, but is too lost for words. "Is that really Coulson?"

"Sure is," Fury answers.

"But he – he _died_," Steve says. "Thor said he saw Loki's scepter go straight through him!"

"Well, we got some of Stark's medical staff in here. Them and SHIELD's put together can do almost anything," Fury says.

"So why only us?" Clint asks. "Don't you want the others to know too?"

"I just didn't want all of you in here at once. You caused enough trouble back there."

Clint and Steve glance sheepishly at each other from the corners of their eyes.

"But you can go get them now," Fury says. "And you two a free to leave."

The two slowly turn to walk back the way they came, not able to take their eyes off the man in the hospital room. Clint feels like he's in a daze; he turns at the correct corners and keeps his pace behind Steve, but he isn't really sensing anything around him. He can't stop the memories that pass through his head.

Finally, they reach the meeting room and Steve absentmindedly opens the door. The entire group stares at them, expectantly, as the two come to a stop at the edge of the table.

"You might, uh," Clint starts, but is in too much shock to continue.

"You might want to go to the medical wing," Steve finishes.

The team members look to each other, confused as to why Clint and Steve are acting so strange.

"We've all been checked out already," Natasha offers.

"Just follow me," Clint says.

The corners of his lips turn up as he turns to face the door. Coulson's alive. He's been behind Clint's missions since the day he started working for SHEILD, and after hearing about his death, Clint knew nothing would be the same. He tried, however, to deny any grief he felt – it could cloud his judgment. But in the case of the New York attack, it almost clarified it. It gave him a concrete reason to put everything he had into his fighting, and he knows it did the same for the rest of the team.

Clint catches the sound of quiet but quick footsteps behind him, and he immediately recognizes them as Natasha's. None of the other team members have that stealthy of a gait – except for him, of course. But that's debatable.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Natasha hisses.

Clint turns to his right, a smirk on his face, as he meets her eyes. He gives a small huff of a laugh before returning his gaze in front of him.

"That's all I get?" she asks.

"I know you have the capacity to be patient," Clint jokes.

She rolls her eyes and returns her gaze in front of her, but the curiosity is biting at the back of her mind. What was so important that no one could tell her? And sure, she's plenty patient, but that doesn't mean she likes waiting.

Fury pushes two doors open, and they swing back slowly enough to let the rest of the team through as well.

Bruce is paying more attention as to figure out why Fury has brought the team into the medical wing than what is right in front of him, resulting in a collision.

"Oof!" he and Steve mumble.

"Sorry," Bruce apologizes. His hand goes to the base of his neck as he turns to face the same direction as his fellow Avengers.

It takes a few moments of staring inside the gray, metallic room before realization suddenly hits.

The corner of Tony's mouth turns up.

Bruce's smile brightens his visage.

Natasha's jaw loosens in surprise.

"But-"Natasha starts. "That can't be Coulson."

"I know none of you are blind," Fury states. "And I know it's a surprise – it is to all of us. We were able to get in a few of your docs, Stark."

"That's all them – I just created the technology." Tony shrugs a shoulder.

Natasha and Steve raise an eyebrow and turn to Tony.

"Did you just not take the credit for something?" Natasha asks.

"Hm?" Tony turns to face her and Steve. "Oh yeah. It actually does happen occasionally."

"Shocker," Steve states in a neutral tone; it's not meant to be taken sarcastically.

"How much longer will he have to be here?" Bruce asks.

"They said a bit over a week in ICU and then another two on base to keep an eye on him," Fury answers. "Until then, relax. He's in stable condition and I trust our staff as much as I trust you six. You all deserve a break."

"I don't think we'll be getting much of one," Tony states, which immediately gets the attention turned to him. He begins to explain himself: "I've already been called multiple times about lawsuits over the damage done to the city. They expect us to help clean up." He scoffs. "After all we did for them…"

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Steve offers. "But I think we should be able to wait a while – we're still pretty beat up."

"You just need to forward the calls to someone else and forget about everything that just happened for a while," Fury says. "You all need some time to recuperate."

"Maybe back at the tower?" Tony suggests.

That earns him several confused looks.

"I know it's a little banged up" –he shrugs one shoulder – "but the top levels are still in good shape. Just the main room where we found Loki is too damaged."

"Sounds like a decent plan to me," Fury says.

The team looks around to each other, making a decision without voicing any opinions.

"So we'll follow you back to Stark Tower?" Steve asks.

"If you can keep up." Tony's tone is playful and smug as he pulls car keys from his pocket and begins twisting them around his finger. Taking one last glance at Coulson, Tony strides in front of the team, leading them towards Stark Tower.

* * *

"This is _exactly_ how you wanted it, isn't it?" Loki spits.

Thor keeps his arms crossed as he stares at Loki through the thick, crisscrossing stone of Loki's cell. The holes in between the stone door are small, and he can just barely make out Loki's visage in the darkness.

The guards have left and wait on the other side of the door leading to the hallway of cells, leaving Thor and Loki to themselves.

"Loki-" Thor begins in exasperation.

"No, I _know_ this is what you wanted. Me in the depths of penitentiary, and you the _highly regarded_ king of Asgard. My failure just emphasizes your success!"

"You truly think I wanted you to fail?" Thor shouts, his fist slamming into the stone of the cell door.

"Isn't it what you've always wanted?" Loki asks a bit softer, but it comes out as more of an accusation than a question.

Thor's arm falls back to its original position at his side. "I've never wanted you to fail. But you must learn from your mistakes – that is what makes a wise king."

Loki stays in his spot, a statue, as he glares at the wall to his right. Thor sighs when he realizes he isn't going to get a response from Loki and turns to leave. He takes another look at Loki, but he has yet to move. Thor continues on his path to return to his friends and acquaintances, all of whom will go through their day as if nothing has happened.

* * *

_Did you guys really think I could play along with the whole "Coulson's dead" story? We all know that Coulson lives, Marvel just doesn't want to tell us - you know, spoilers and that junk. Reviews are still appreciated very much!_


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